Shaking my head in resignation, I washed my bowl and spoon in the running water. As I took a drink, I spied a familiar sight. The fierce wild man with a collar like my own, looking like some sort of half-tamed animal, was sitting away from me. He was the man from our slave indoctrination, the one who had dared to resist.
Blonde dreadlocks hung down across his neck like a lion’s mane. His eyes were like smoldering blue coals filled with icy fire. They locked with mine for a moment before he pointed at the heavy iron collar around his neck. I moved over to him, feeling somehow that we were kindred spirits.
The wildman rose and slapped me on the back as I came closer, a mischievous smile on his face. He guffawed as he greeted me, "You are a troublemaker! The yoke does not sit so lightly about your neck, no? I am Kidu, the Raider of the Three Bears clan." He pointed to his left breast and declared in a loud voice, "Like you, I am not a slave," almost as a challenge to the other gathered slaves.
Someone in the back jeered, “You have a slave brand just like the rest of us your highness, just with a bit of extra heavy jewelry!”
Kidu scoffed, “Come let us ignore these sheep. Let us talk like men. How did you come to be in this thrice-cursed hell hole?” His inflection growled a bit towards the end.
I told him about my encounters with the dark entities of the void and my meeting with Avaria. The overwhelming need to spill the emotions that had bottled up inside me caused me to disregard any inhibitions I may have had. Although I knew on some logical level that it was the wrong choice, logic is merely a servant of emotion. For some reason, I chose not to disclose that I was from another world, instead stating that I had completely lost my memories before arriving at the shrine. Kidu listened attentively, nodding as if he had expected something like this.
“You are one of the god-touched. Some in my tribe go into the madness of revelation, limbs shake and they drool like mad dogs, though different to the Berserk. They are honored among our people. Your gift must have been too great, your tribe offered you to Vari, chooser of the slain, in some form of appeasement.” He spoke these words in a thoughtful seriousness that was incongruous with his wild appearance.
He must have mistaken the look of confusion that crossed my face as sadness for he tried to brighten my mood.
“You missed your chance to fight the endless battle in the heavens, my friend! But, I am fortunate to make your acquaintance Gilgamesh of Uruk. Perhaps with a little divine guidance, we may yet make our way out of our troubles, yes?” he said more as a statement than a question as he slapped me on the back in encouragement.
“Yes, let’s get out of this thrice-cursed hell hole. One way or another,” I replied, nodding in agreement. A few slaves nearby shook their heads in pity and sympathy. No doubt we were not the first to make such a vow.
“Do you know anything about levels?” I asked him as nonchalantly as possible.
“Levels?” his eyebrows furrowing in thought. “Like how high something is?”
“No, no, to determine one’s strength. Experience points and such? How do you get more skillful or stronger?” I quizzed him, determined to get some answers.
“Friend, truly you must be god-touched. I know no such thing of levels, but there are ranks in the armies of men and so forth. Points of experience, I guess as one practices at some things, one will get better at it,” he replied earnestly, not truly understanding the line of my questioning.
I continued to question him about his past during the brief moments before we were ushered off to sleep. The locals did not understand the ‘system’ responsible for my growth, but I did manage to gather that they were possibly affected by it. Kidu mentioned that some warriors of his clan seemed to become physically stronger as they proved themselves in battles or successful hunts.
He also spoke of older beasts and creatures that grew stronger over time. He told me about monstrous Ice Drakes in the frozen north that became more vicious and malevolent with each passing year, preying on the herds of the tribes until a group of determined hunters or adventurers could take them down.
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I took note that perhaps the NPCs of this world had more organic growth in their strength and development since our conversation highlighted that they had no knowledge of this game world's ‘system’. I, on the other hand, could guide my own progress to a certain extent as I leveled up. This would give me a great advantage as I hopefully grew in power.
Going through the doors to the slave stables, we chose pallets next to each other for some form of security against the other true slaves. Exhausted, I fell asleep.
I awoke sometime in the night, plagued once again by dreams of dark, stalking things. Thinking of Kidu and his fantastical homeland in the frozen north, I was half tempted to see if he was also awake, but was interrupted by the sound of two creatures seeking solace in the night. Finally, their rut finished, and I was once again lulled into the land of dark dreams.
The next day was very much like the previous one. The wild man and I, who were obvious troublemakers, were separated into different teams. After a rest, I regained all my Status points, and received a new notification informing me that my concentrated efforts to sleep had increased my Rest level to two.
I fell into line and toiled in the light blue gloom of the mines. During my second shift, Durhit worked next to me. As I hacked away at the white stone with my crude mining pickaxe, focused on my work, Durhit paused for a moment and spoke to me quietly, while our whip-carrying minders looked the other way.
“I've never seen a fellow dwarf… let alone a human like you… hack away at the stone like that… Have you made an enemy of the Earth Mother?” Durhit said from behind his bushy beard, his barrel chest straining with each breath.
Intrigued by his use of the word ‘dwarf’ and with plenty of Mana to spare, I decided to cast an Identify spell on him to satisfy my idle curiosity.
Durhit Coal - Sapper (Dwarf lvl.14)
Health: 273/280
Stamina: 42/50
Mana: 11/11
I could see that Durhit had a prodigious amount of health, truly formidable, probably due to his dwarven constitution. Dwarves were always famously hardy in modern fantasy depictions, so it was little surprise to me that this paradigm applied to this world too. Also, the dwarf still had most of his Stamina and had dug out more rock than me. In comparison, I had already burned through more than half of my own stamina as I pounded furiously at the stone. I half-heartedly concluded that his Sapper class explained his more economical strikes against the rock.
Striking the alabaster rock, I grunted before answering Durhit, raising my tool above my head. "This is 'grinding,' sir dwarf. I need to build up my Strength if I am ever to escape."
Durhit pretended to understand my response, no doubt thinking I was perhaps a little touched in the head. Come to think of it, an infection caused by the myriad of wounds I had suffered, and my questionable diet may well have caused a riot within my body and addled my mind. I mentally shrugged to myself as I rolled my shoulders. Perhaps this was all just a fever dream?
This line of thinking would produce no real answers, so I focused back on my work, striking out against my enemy, the alabaster stone. Mimicking the dwarf, I raised my pickaxe slower and used more of the tool’s weight than my own muscle when striking the rock. Subconsciously, an unspoken bond was formed between us as we toiled under a blue glow. Just as Durhit was relieved of his shift, I was rewarded with a notification.
You have learned Hammers (lvl.1)
You have learned Mining (lvl.2)
You have gained 1 Strength.
Humming a catchy tune from my own world between strokes to break up the monotony, I continued my assault on the rock. Some of the slaves around me took up the tune before they were silenced by the crack of whips on pliant flesh.
The dwarf noticed my smile, however, and just shook his head at my antics as he slung his pickaxe over his shoulder and left. I continued to hum the tune, albeit under my breath, in discreet defiance. Like Kidu, I was not a slave in my heart.